Kryptonite
by Girl in a White Dress
Summary: [CSI Miami] Seven years ago, Horatio's testimony put a man behind bars. Now he's out and he's looking for revenge. [HoratioCalleigh
1. one

Title: Kryptonite 1/6

Author: Melanie-Anne

Email: melani_anne@yahoo.com 

Rating: PG-13

Archive: Anywhere, just let me know so I can visit.

Summary: Seven years ago, Horatio's testimony put a man behind bars. Now he's out and he's looking for revenge. [Horatio/Calleigh]

Disclaimer: The characters don't belong to me, I'm just borrowing them for a while. When I'm done I'll dust them off and return them as good as new. Except maybe Horatio, I think I'll keep him for a while ;o)

A/N: This is the first in a series of stories, some of which will be darker than others. If you can't stand the thought of anything bad happening to your favorite characters, then you probably shouldn't read this. That said, I'm a huge believer in fairytales and happy endings (it'll just take a while to get there ::grin::)

* * *

The sun's rays were just starting to peer through the blinds when Calleigh quietly slipped out of the bed. She gathered her clothes which were strewn carelessly on the floor and tiptoed to the bathroom where she quickly got dressed. Catching a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror, she raised her fingers to her lips, still bruised with kisses. She outlined the marks his teeth had left on her shoulder; she could still feel his mouth against her skin.

She had to focus. She took a deep breath then splashed cold water on her face. She combed her fingers through her tangled hair then gave up and pulled it back into a loose ponytail.

On her way out, she looked once more at the man sleeping in the bed. Tears burning her eyes, she turned away. The best thing to do would be to forget this night had ever happened, she thought miserably. 

It was easier said than done. In three hours she would have to face him at work. And then there was tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that . . .

She hurried to her car. When he'd called her as she was dropping her father off at home, she should have pretended everything was fine. When he'd asked her if she'd wanted to talk, she should have said she was okay. When he'd invited her over, she shouldn't have gone. When he'd kissed her, she should have left.

The worst thing was that she'd now screwed up any chance of a future relationship between them. She knew what she felt for him, but she wasn't sure if he felt the same or if he had simply been lonely.

For the first time since working in Miami, Calleigh dreaded going in to work.

* * *

"You look like something the cat dragged in," Speed remarked as Calleigh came into the break room in search of coffee. 

"Thanks. You know just how to make a girl's day." She thought if she didn't look at him, it would be easier to pretend she was fine.

"Rough night?"

You have no idea, she thought. When she heard Horatio's voice from the hallway, she jumped, almost spilling her coffee. When he walked through the door, her heart dropped.

"Speed, Calleigh. A body washed up on the beach this morning. Bernstein's going to meet you there."

Calleigh breathed a sigh of relief; so he was going to pretend that everything was normal. Good.

As she followed Speed out the door, Horatio grabbed her arm. She couldn't bring herself to meet his eyes, afraid of what she'd find in them. Horatio had the most intense eyes of anyone she knew, and she was certain that if she looked in them, she'd break.

"Is everything okay?" he asked.

She nodded. His touch brought back memories of their heated contact the night before; perversely, she had no strength to pull away. He pressed something into her hand.

"You left this behind."

She looked down at her thin gold ankle chain. She hadn't even noticed it was missing. Closing her palm around it, she mumbled a thank you.

"We need to talk," he said.

"I have to go . . . Speed . . . the beach . . ."

"When you get back, then."

She nodded, but had absolutely no intention of talking about what had happened. For now though, she had a reprieve and hurried away to join Speed. Hopefully the case would get her mind off Horatio for a while.

* * *

Horatio joined Alexx in the autopsy bay, his thoughts only half on the body lying before them. He was worried about Calleigh. When he'd woken to find her gone, he'd realized he'd made a mistake. Calleigh had been upset the night before and she'd been looking for a friend, not someone to take advantage of her vulnerability. Horatio knew he wasn't perfect, and the way he'd completely ignored Calleigh's feelings the night before was proof of that. Just because he was ready to take their relationship further, didn't mean she was, he thought. He wanted to apologize and to explain. And maybe salvage what they had. Calleigh was too precious to lose because of this.

"Horatio? Are you listening?" Alexx stood looking at him, her hands on her hips. Horatio forced himself to concentrate.

"Yeah. What do you have for me?"

Alexx slowly turned the victim's wrists upwards. Deep gashes marred the skin, and Horatio could see bone. "Tox screen showed a high blood alcohol level but no drugs. The wounds are consistent with what you'd expect from self-infliction. This guy wasn't murdered, Horatio."

He nodded. "So, he got drunk. Maybe he couldn't bring himself to do it sober."

Alexx sighed. "What a waste."

"I'll go tell the family." As he made his way back to his office, his thoughts returned to Calleigh. 'I'm glad you're my friend,' she'd said, hugging him, and the kiss, which had started out chaste, had quickly turned into something more. And then he was helpless to turn back.

He shut the door behind him and leaned against it, groaning. He had a feeling that this was going to be one of the longest days of his life.

* * *

Finally, mercifully, the day came to its end. Calleigh had managed to successfully avoid crossing paths with Horatio. She sensed he might be purposely giving her space and she wondered how long her luck would hold out. If she hurried, she could leave before he came looking for her.

She hung up her lab coat and when she turned around, he was there. "Calleigh." He said her name as a caress.

"Umm, I have to go." She made no move to pass him, but self-consciously crossed her arms. 

"I was hoping we could go somewhere and talk."

She looked past his shoulder at the open door. It seemed incredibly far away. She closed her eyes. Even now, her traitorous body leaned towards him. "There's nothing to talk about."

"Calleigh, please." His voice was low, husky, and made her want to cry.

"I'm sorry, Horatio. I have to go." She grabbed her bag and swept past him. She didn't dare look back as she made a beeline for her car. Her cell phone rang and rang and rang until it went to voicemail. She didn't care who it was; she didn't want to speak to anyone right now.

She had been wrong; this was going to be harder than she thought.

* * *

Although he'd lived alone for years, this was the first time Horatio's house felt empty. Calleigh had been there and then she had left, and Horatio had never felt her absence more than he did now. He sighed and sank down onto his couch. He'd had his chance and it hadn't worked, and now he had to live with it.

Maybe Calleigh just needed time, he thought. Maybe there was still hope. He decided he would keep trying; she was worth it.

He tried to call her again but this time the phone didn't even ring before going to voice mail. When he tried her home number, the answering machine picked up. He didn't know what to say so he just asked her to call when she got the message.

* * *

After a sleepless night of tossing and turning and reaching for someone who wasn't there, Horatio was glad to get to work. Calleigh would be there, and even if she wouldn't speak to him, at least he could see her. 

She and Speed were supposed to hand their report to Horatio. When she didn't arrive, Speed remarked that he hoped she was okay.

"Why do you say that?" Horatio asked.

"She just seemed bummed yesterday. But she didn't want to talk about it."

Horatio nodded, then reached for the phone. Again, he got both voicemail and the machine. "Let's take a drive," he said to Speed. Some primal part of him knew something wasn't right and he silently echoed Speed's earlier wish that Calleigh was okay.

When they arrived at Calleigh's house, her car was parked outside. Horatio knocked on the door, calling her name. Five minutes later, both men were sufficiently worried enough to break in.

Calleigh's bag was on the coffee table, her cell phone lying next to it. Horatio checked the machine; Calleigh had got his message from the previous night. Her bed was unmade, pajamas tossed carelessly on the covers.

"Maybe she went jogging," Speed suggested.

"Instead of coming to work?"

Speed shrugged. "Maybe she needed to take the day off. I got the idea that whatever was bugging her was pretty big. Let's leave a note. She'll call when she gets it."

Even as Horatio scribbled the short message, he couldn't help thinking that Speed was wrong. He knew Calleigh; he knew how important her job was to her. She was too professional to let anything get in the way of her work.

Except this wasn't just anything. Something was wrong, and Horatio had no proof except the feeling in his gut.


	2. two

It was dark and stuffy and Calleigh couldn't move. Her arms were bound behind her back, the restraints so tight they cut into her skin. Her ankles were tied together and there was a gag over her mouth. Her arms were going numb. She moved her fingers to keep the blood flowing. Something rough grazed her cheek. It felt like carpeting.

She began to move. No, she realized, whatever she was in was moving. She could smell exhaust fumes and suddenly knew she was in the trunk of a car.

After a while, the car stopped. The lid lifted and she was blinded by the light. When her vision cleared, she noticed it was already late in the afternoon. She wondered how long she'd been unconscious for. 

Her abductor lifted her out of the trunk. He looked vaguely familiar but Calleigh couldn't place him. It took her a moment to recognize where he'd brought her. She started struggling but it was no use. He took her around to the back of the house, setting her down briefly while he broke a window. Inside the house, he dumped her on the floor then returned to the car.

Calleigh slowly inched her way to the phone. She hoped she could bump the table enough for it to fall off. Then, somehow, she would find a way to dial 911.

Before she was anywhere near the phone, her abductor returned and hoisted her up. She let out a muffled cry. This wasn't happening. Not to her. It couldn't be happening.

He untied her wrists and ankles and she fell to her knees as feeling returned. He jerked her back to her feet and shoved her forward. She stumbled, her legs shaky.

Her one hope was that Horatio would come home soon.

* * *

Horatio sat at his desk and tried to make sense of the budget report. It was no use; he couldn't concentrate. Horatio looked at the phone and willed it to ring. When it didn't, he stood up and headed for the ballistics lab, just in case her arrival had escaped his notice. He ran into Delko on the way, who handed him a folder.

"I was just looking for you. This is the latest list of parolees."

Horatio was in the habit of keeping track of paroles and escapes so that he could never be caught unawares. While he readily admitted that some parolees genuinely managed to turn their lives around, he knew there were a couple that would turn into recurring problems.

"Thanks," he said. "Have you seen Calleigh around?"

"No. If I do, I'll tell her you're looking for her."

Horatio nodded and turned back to his office. He flipped the folder open and scanned the list of names. One name in particular stood out from the rest: Carlo dos Santos, an arms dealer. Horatio's testimony had helped put him behind bars. The look in his eyes as he'd been led away had given Horatio chills. Dos Santos was pure evil; he didn't care how many deaths his sales had caused, all he cared about was money and power. Horatio was surprised that he'd been released and made a mental note to follow up with his parole officer. He had no doubt that Dos Santos had every intention of returning to the arms trade.

* * *

It hurt to breathe. 

Calleigh tried to open her eyes, but that demanded strength she currently did not have. She was vaguely aware of someone moving around, and a mocking voice saying something she couldn't quite hear.

This is what dying feels like, she thought.

Something burned in the lower part of her abdomen. It was hot and she was so thirsty and that voice was just going on and on and . . . where was Horatio? She imagined him holding her hand, stroking her forehead, telling her not to worry. Her lips formed his name, but there was no sound.

The blood was sticky on her hands; it's sick, coppery smell filling her nostrils, choking her. She realized the moisture on her cheeks was tears.

There was a buzzing noise, growing louder and louder and it was hot, so hot, and then there was merciful blackness.

* * *

When Speed offered to go past Calleigh's place after work, it was on the tip of Horatio's tongue to say he'd go. Instead, he said, "That's a good idea," and decided he'd call her later.

He stopped for milk and bread on the way home and took his time in the shop. Then he reluctantly returned to his empty house.

He unlocked his front door and immediately sensed something different. Cautiously making his way further into the house, he stopped in the living room. Two delicate feet hung over the edge of his couch, the pale pink nail polish and gold ankle chain identifying them as Calleigh's. Hope flared in his chest. Maybe Speed was right, he thought. Maybe she just needed time and now she was ready to talk.

Then he smelled the blood.

He walked around and froze in horror. She lay on her back, the hilt of a sword protruding from her stomach, pinning her to the couch. Her eyes were closed. One of her hands was wrapped around the hilt, the other dangled over the side, her fingers just brushing the carpet. His first thought was that she was dead; no one could survive that.

When he could function again, he felt for a pulse. It was weak, but there, and Horatio wept in relief. He didn't dare remove the sword, not wanting to cause further damage. He sat on the edge of the coffee table and dialed 911.

Scared he'd dreamed it the first time, he checked her pulse again. Her skin was cold to the touch but she was breathing. There was still hope.

Oh, God, please don't let her die, he prayed. 

Where was the ambulance? It felt like hours since he'd called. Calleigh was dying and they were taking their sweet time and _oh God, Calleigh was dying_ . . .

Horatio sank to his knees, the full horror of the situation finally beginning to sink in. She was so pale and there was so much blood and he didn't know how long she'd been like this and _oh God no_ . . .

He lost her pulse.

Still holding her hand, he pressed his fingers first to her jugular then her carotid and—_thank you, God_—there was a pulse. He kept his hand there, holding onto the tiny thread of hope. 

"Calleigh Duquesne, don't you dare die," he said in a low voice.

His only response was the faint beat beneath his fingertips. 


	3. three

Mercy Hospital had one of the best surgical teams, Alexx assured Horatio. He sat in the waiting room, Calleigh's blood still on his hands, while he waited for the surgeon to come and tell him that she would be fine. He refused to contemplate the alternative. 

He didn't know who had called them, but his entire team was waiting with him. Alexx had arrived first, followed by Delko, then Speed. Even Megan had called.

The doors to the operating room swung open and a nurse came out bearing the sword. She headed towards the group, holding it out in front of her as if she was afraid of it. "Uh, Dr. Ruben said you wanted this."

"How is she?" Horatio asked.

The nurse shrugged. "It's too early to say. Dr. Ruben will let you know as soon as they're done."

Horatio slumped in his seat. No news is good news, he told himself, and tried as hard as he could to believe it.

"So, uh, do you want this, then?"

Speed stood. "I'll take it. Do you have a pair of gloves for me?"

"Sure. This way."

He followed the nurse away. Alexx put her hand on Horatio's arm.

"She'll be okay," she said.

Horatio shook his head. "You weren't there, Alexx." If he closed his eyes, he could still see Calleigh lying pinned to the couch. He buried his face in his hands. Right now he didn't care about being strong or taking charge, and he didn't care how much he was revealing to his co-workers.

__

Calleigh needs you to be strong a voice whispered in his head.

He had to pull himself together. He looked up. "Delko, I need you to go over to Calleigh's house. Treat it like a crime scene."

He heard footsteps. Thinking it was the surgeon, he turned around. "Adele. Hagen."

"How's she doing?" Adele asked sympathetically.

"I don't know."

"Horatio, we need to get your statement," Hagen said.

"Can't it wait?"

"What did you do today?"

Horatio frowned. "You make it sound like I'm a suspect."

"John." Adele glared at Hagen. Her expression softened as she looked back at Horatio. "We didn't come for a statement. We came to see how she was."

Horatio managed to smile. "Thanks. Did you speak to my neighbors?"

"No one saw anything. But one of Calleigh's neighbors saw a 'strange Latino fellow' knock on her door. She thought he was a delivery man so she didn't say anything."

"A strange Latino fellow," Horatio echoed. He couldn't think of anyone who would want to hurt Calleigh . . . but there were plenty of people who might want to hurt him. Thoughts started clicking into place in his head; the facts he had so far falling into line. And then, everything made sense: Dos Santos hated him. Dos Santos was Latino. Dos Santos collected antique swords.

Dos Santos had tried to kill Calleigh.

Horatio went cold all over. He looked at Adele. "It's Carlo dos Santos."

Adele nodded. "I remember him. He's in prison, though."

"Not anymore. He got paroled."

"We'll check it out," Adele said. "In the mean time, you need to get some rest."

* * *

It was his fault, Horatio thought as he unlocked his front door. Calleigh had been hurt because someone had a grudge against him.

He found himself in the living room, staring down at his couch. Blood still pooled on the seat. 

"What are you doing here?"

He turned to see Speed looking at him in concern. "I live here."

The younger man hung his head and sighed. "It's a crime scene." Horatio could see he hated saying it.

"I know. I thought you went back to the lab."

"I did. Then I came here. I didn't want you to have to process this."

Horatio fell silent. There didn't seem to be anything else to say. He looked at the couch again. He'd kissed Calleigh on that couch.

"Look, uh, you want to crash at my place? I need to drop this stuff off at the lab—"

"No. I need to be doing something. But thanks."

Speed picked up his kit and moved towards the door. As he passed Horatio, he said, "We'll find him."

Horatio nodded.

"H. I know you were worried about her this morning but there was nothing you could have done. You're not Superman."

Horatio didn't reply. Speed sighed and slowly walked away. "I'll finish up here later."

Horatio heard the door swing closed behind him. He looked around the living room, then his gaze was drawn back to the couch.

He wanted to burn it.

'You'll be sorry,' Dos Santos had said as the bailiff had led him away. 'You'll regret this.' And Horatio had smiled and told him to enjoy prison.

Dos Santos was wrong. He didn't regret testifying. Now it was Dos Santos who would be sorry.

Horatio's cell phone rang, pulling him from his thoughts. "Caine," he answered.

"Horatio, thank God. He's gone. He's gone."

"Yelina?" She was crying too hard for him to make sense of her words. "Who's gone?"

"Ray."


	4. four

Yelina was sitting at her dining room table when Horatio walked in. When she saw him, she ran to him and hugged him. He looked passed her at Adele who had remained at the table.

"Yelina, what happened?"

"He was studying for a test. I went out to get dinner and when I came back, he was gone." She clutched Horatio's shirt. "I've already lost his father. I can't lose him too."

There was something on the table. As Horatio tried to see what it was, Adele turned it over. "I think you should remove yourself from this case," she said.

"What aren't you telling me?"

Adele stared at him for a long moment, then turned the photograph face up. It was a Polaroid of Calleigh lying on Horatio's couch.

"Where did you get this?" he asked hoarsely.

"It was on Ray's bed."

"Dos Santos has him?" Horatio felt ill. For all he knew, Ray could already be dead. He sat down and leaned his elbows on the table. 

"If it is Dos Santos. Horatio, he's not the only person with a grudge against you."

"It's him, Adele."

"You know who took him?" Yelina's voice rose with each word. "You know who has my baby?"

"I need to go back to the office. There may be something in the case file." He stood and searched his pockets for his car keys.

"I saw what he did to Calleigh. He's going to kill Ray, isn't he? Oh, God . . ." Yelina slid to the floor, her back against a wall. She pressed her hands to her face and sobbed.

"Not if I can help it," Horatio said.

* * *

Speed looked up from the sword when Horatio walked into the lab. He nodded to him, then continued dusting the hilt for prints. Horatio was about to ask if he'd found anything, then changed his mind. Speed would have volunteered the information if he had any. He let Speed get on with his business and headed for his office.

Hunched over his computer, he brought up every file relating to Dos Santos' case. He reread every single word, hoping for some kind of clue. After a while, the words began blurring together. He yawned and pinched the bridge of his nose, ignoring the headache that was building. When the phone rang, he reached for it without looking away from the screen.

"Caine."

"It's Alexx. She's out of surgery."

"I'll be right there."

Twenty minutes later, he strode into the waiting room of Mercy Hospital. Alexx rose to greet him. "They've taken her to ICU," she said.

"But she's okay?"

"She's still critical." Alexx lowered her eyes. "I'm going to be honest, it doesn't sound good. She lost a lot of blood. Dr. Ruben mentioned the possibility of damage to her brain. It was touch and go for a while but they managed to repair most of the damage. If she wakes up, it's going to be a long recovery."

Horatio nodded. If she wakes up, he thought. If, Alexx had said, not when. She had to wake up. If she didn't . . . he didn't want to go there. Calleigh _would_ wake up. "Okay. Go home, Alexx. One of us might as well get some sleep tonight. What's left of it."

"Why don't you come with me? There's nothing you can do here."

He smiled. "I'd be a lousy houseguest. Thanks for staying here." He turned and approached the nurse's desk.

"I need to see a patient in ICU."

"I'm sorry, sir. Visiting hours ended at nine."

He showed her his badge, silently pleading with her. She sighed, bit her lip, then said, "Okay. But just for a minute."

"A minute's all I need." 

Calleigh was attached to countless wires and monitors. Horatio was close enough to see her skin had taken on a pinkish color as opposed to the marble hue it had when he'd found her. He gently touched her cheek; she was warmer too. He bent to kiss her forehead.

"You scared me, Cal."

His response was the steady beep of her heart monitor and the rise and fall of her chest.

"Sir." The nurse hovered in the doorway, her arms folded.

As Horatio followed her out, his cell phone rang. It was Adele. "Dos Santos' parole officer finally got back to me. He says Dos Santos has been the model parolee for the past two months. Never missed an appointment, had a steady job, told him he was even going to church."

"Two months? I only found out today."

"You know it gets. Prisons are more concerned with the people still inside than the ones they've released. Anyway, I got Dos Santos' home address."

"What is it?"

Adele was silent. Horatio could sense her hesitance. Eventually she gave him the address and told him to meet her there.

* * *

"Pretty fancy for a parolee," Adele remarked as she and Horatio walked up the path to the front door. Dos Santos lived on the beachfront, his house a stone's throw from the ocean.

"He always did have expensive taste."

Adele knocked on the door. "Mr. Dos Santos, Miami Dade police. Please open up."

There was no answer. She and Horatio drew their weapons. She signaled to an officer behind her, who battered the door open. Horatio entered first. The house was dark. He took a flashlight from his pocket and shone it around.

In the living room, there were dozens of photographs scattered on the coffee table. "He's been a busy boy," Horatio said.

"No one's home," Adele called from another part of the house.

Horatio turned a lamp on so he could see the photographs better. "Adele, you'd better get in here."

There were photographs of Alexx, Speed, Delko. Working crime scenes. Doing their grocery shopping. Photos of Adele, Yelina, Ray. Calleigh. Horatio. Photos of all of them living their lives over the last two months.

"What is this?" Adele asked.

"He wanted to find my weakness. He was looking for someone to hurt." Horatio picked up a photograph of Calleigh, snapped as she sneaked out of Horatio's house with the sunrise. And he found one, he thought. 


	5. five

Adele took the photo of Calleigh from Horatio. "We need to talk."

"You want to know if Calleigh and I are involved?"

Adele nodded. "Are you?"

"It's not important."

"It is if that's why he hurt her." She let the photo fall from her hand to join the rest. 

He knew Adele was right. Dos Santos knew the only way to hurt Horatio was through the people he cared about. He sighed. "Calleigh and I . . . it's complicated. I'd rather not discuss it. We need to find Ray."

He looked around the room as if he expected Ray to step out from behind one of the curtains.

"Horatio, he's not going to stop with Ray."

"Which is why we need to find him."

"Then let me do my job. You're running on empty and you're not going to be of use to anyone if you drop dead of exhaustion."

Horatio ran his fingers through his hair. As he opened his mouth to tell Adele he was fine, a yawn betrayed him. He nodded in defeat. "Okay. Will you arrange a guard for Calleigh, in case he tries again?"

"Sure."

He turned to go, his shoulders sagging. He felt he'd aged ten years in one night.

"H. I'll call the minute I find anything. Good or bad."

* * *

On the way back to the hospital, Horatio stopped to see how Yelina was doing. He was surprised to find Hagen there, looking quite at home in the kitchen.

"Did you find that bastard yet?" Yelina asked.

Horatio shook his head. "He wasn't in. How are you doing?"

She laughed hysterically. "Fine, just fine. Some psycho's got my baby and you want to know how I'm doing!"

She stopped pacing and leaned against the counter, hiding her eyes behind her hand. After a while, she looked up. "I'm sorry. How's Calleigh?"

"Still critical." He couldn't look at his sister-in-law. Whether she blamed him or not, he felt guilty. Seeing her like this—distraught, in pain—was too much for him.

Hagen was surprisingly sympathetic. "I'll stay with her. Why don't you go be with Calleigh?"

Horatio studied the two of them. Hagen's arm was protectively around Yelina and she had softened against him. He wondered why he hadn't noticed it before; they were _very_ comfortable together.

"Okay," he said. Knowing Yelina wouldn't be alone did something to ease his conscience about returning to Calleigh. Uncertain that they'd even heard him, he let himself out.

* * *

There was a different nurse on duty. She took one look at Horatio and gave him no trouble. She even found a cushion for his chair. He smiled and thanked her; it was encouraging to know that there was still good in the world.

Calleigh was exactly as he'd left her. Horatio pulled the chair closer to the bed and covered her hand with his. He didn't intend to stay long, but once he sat down, he couldn't move. He fell asleep in the chair, the sounds of the monitors a strange lullaby.

* * *

Ray couldn't see and he couldn't move, but he knew he was on a boat. He could hear the water splashing against the sides and he felt the constant and gentle rock. Time had ceased to hold any meaning and after a while, Ray admitted he was very frightened.

He tried to imagine how his dad or Uncle Horatio would act if this was happening to them. He was sure they'd be brave, so he tried his best to be brave too.

But he was still young enough to want his mother.

Then he realized that the man might have kidnapped his mother too. No, he banished the thought instantly. His mother was a cop, she had a gun, and she wouldn't have let some guy kidnap her.

He'd seen this movie once, where these guys kidnapped a girl because her father was really rich. Ray didn't know why anyone would want to kidnap him. His family certainly wasn't rich.

Maybe, he thought, it was like that other movie he'd seen, where this cop's kid was kidnapped because the bad guys wanted their boss released from prison.

If he pretended he was just in a movie, it wasn't so scary. Not at all. In fact, it was an adventure. He felt a bit better, and then his kidnapper returned.

"Raymond Junior," the man said. "How sweet. How . . . pathetic."

He heard footsteps, and guessed the man was pacing.

"I bet you're waiting for your uncle to come in and save the day, right? I hate to break it to you, kid, but that's not going to happen. I hope you know it's nothing personal. I like kids, really, and if you were anyone else's nephew . . ."

It didn't feel like a movie anymore, and the fear returned.

The man laughed. "He couldn't even save that pretty girlfriend of his. I had nothing against her either. And I got nothing against your mom. Bet you'd like to see her, huh?"

There was a sound Ray recognized as a Polaroid camera. His friend Mike had one, and they'd spent an entire afternoon last summer pretending they were CSIs. Ray had played the dead body, and Mike had taken pictures. It occurred to Ray that he might very soon be a real dead body. He squeezed his eyes shut, tears burning behind the lids.

His dad wouldn't cry, Uncle Horatio wouldn't cry, so neither would Ray. He would be strong and brave and make his mother proud.

The man was wrong. His uncle would find him. Then the man would go to jail and everything would be okay again.


	6. six

He couldn't find a pulse. She was cold in his arms. He was too late, she was already dead. He held her close, hoping, praying that she would open her eyes and smile and tell him she was fine. He kissed her, as if she was Sleeping Beauty and he was her prince and his kiss would wake her up. His tears fell on her cheeks; pale, smooth as marble. Her lips had a blue tinge to them, the only color there was. He brushed her hair away from her face, whispering that everything was going to be okay, that the ambulance was on its way and she didn't have to worry about anything.

Horatio woke up with a start, disoriented at first. Then he realized where he was and let himself relax. Just to be sure, he checked Calleigh's pulse anyway. She was warm, her heart rate steady, and Horatio hunched forward, his head hanging down. The dream had been so real.

He couldn't believe he'd fallen asleep. He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and dialed Adele's number.

"It's me," he said when she answered. "How's it going? Where are you?"

"Horatio, you're not on this case." She sounded tired.

"Come on, Adele."

She sighed. "I've called the FBI to help with Ray's kidnapping. So far, we've checked Dos Santos' old addresses but came up with nothing. We're questioning a couple of his known acquaintances right now."

"You'll let me know—"

"As soon as we find anything."

Horatio reluctantly admitted that there really was nothing for him to do. He thought about calling Yelina, but realized there was nothing he could say to help.

* * *

Speed waited patiently for the computer to print out the test results. He'd found traces of gasoline on the hilt of the sword. "Delko, take a look at this."

"It's reformulated gas," Delko said. "Better for the ozone."

"Yeah, but why would it be on a sword?"

Delko nibbled his bottom lip as he reread the results. "You know, most cars down here don't use reformulated gas. But a lot of boats do."

"Does Dos Santos have a boat?"

"Shouldn't be hard to check." The men moved to the computer and Delko typed in a few search words. "The only Dos Santos who owns a boat is a Ricardo Dos Santos."

"Carlo's brother, maybe?"

Delko shrugged. "Says here the boat's called _Scimitar_. Isn't that a sword?"

"Yeah." Speed picked up the phone. "Adele, hi. We found something."

* * *

Just before sunrise, three cars pulled up at the marina. Adele, Yelina and Hagen were in the first one. FBI agents were in the other two. 

"Maybe you should wait at the car," Adele said to Yelina. "We don't know what we'll find."

"I'll wait with you," the female agent offered. Yelina sighed and nodded.

The _Scimitar_ was moored at the far end of the dock. Everyone had their weapons ready. On Adele's signal, they boarded the boat. There was no sign of life on board. Two of the agents went below deck.

"We found him!"

Adele hurried down the steps. The agent had freed Ray from his restraints and the boy ran straight to Adele.

"You okay?" she asked.

He nodded. "He said he was going to feed me to the fish." His breath hitched in his throat.

"Do you know where he went?"

"No. Where's my mom?"

Adele led him outside. He spotted his mother before she saw him and broke into a run. "Mom!"

Yelina turned and held out her arms. She clutched her son to her chest, sobbing tears of relief. Adele noticed a man watching from the car park. She nudged Hagen and tilted her head in Dos Santos' direction. Hagen nodded to the agents and they started running.

Dos Santos turned and ran. The lead agent quickly gained ground and tackled him. Both men fell to the ground. The other agents caught up and handcuffed Dos Santos then pulled him to his feet.

He was smirking as they brought him back to the police car. "I still won," he said to Adele.

She pulled out her cell phone. "Horatio, how's Calleigh? . . . The doctors are positive? That's wonderful news . . . Yeah, we got Dos Santos. Ray's fine, too." She smiled at Dos Santos.

Dos Santos' face fell. Hagen was none too gentle as he pushed him into the back of the car. 

* * *

Horatio took Calleigh's hand. "We got him," he said softly. He had wanted to be there when they apprehended him, but he understood why Adele had waited until afterwards to let him know. 

"It's over, Cal. Now you just have to get better." She had made it through the night, a very good sign. Dr. Ruben had been by earlier. He'd told Horatio she was a fighter, but Horatio had already known that.

"Oh, God," someone said from the door. Horatio looked up and wondered who the stranger was. "Oh, Lambchop. What happened to you?"

Horatio could smell the alcohol from where he sat. He stood and approached Calleigh's father. "Mr. Duquesne? I'm Horatio Caine—"

"She's mentioned you. What happened?"

"Let me buy you a cup of coffee." He gently gripped the other man's arm and steered him out of the room. He had the feeling that it would take more than one cup of coffee for Kenwall Duquesne to be sober enough to understand what had happened.

* * *

Horatio took a deep breath before entering the interrogation room. Dos Santos looked up from the table and smiled.

"Lieutenant Caine. How nice to see you again."

Horatio took his time, gathering his thoughts. He wanted to punch the grin from Dos Santos's face. The moment passed and he took a seat opposite him.

"How did it feel to lose everything?" Dos Santos asked.

Horatio met his gaze. "I haven't lost anything. You're the one who's going back to prison."

Dos Santos leaned forward. "She's a spitfire, your Calleigh. I wouldn't have minded . . . you know." He laughed. "But I like my women conscious. I couldn't resist taking a peek though. Cute tattoo, don't you think?"

Before Horatio knew what he was doing, he reached across and grabbed Dos Santos' throat. "You are so lucky she's still alive—"

Adele rushed into the room. "Horatio!"

He released Dos Santos and angrily stood up. Dos Santos laughed again. "What's the matter? Did I hit a nerve?"

Horatio closed his eyes and forced himself to remain calm. When he was sure he could look at Dos Santos without feeling the urge to kill him, he opened his eyes again. 

"Get him out of here," he said to Adele, then walked out, not looking back. He refused to give Dos Santos the pleasure of seeing how shaken he was.

He walked out to his car. The sun was high in the sky. Horatio raised his face to the sky and smiled. Dos Santos was in custody, Ray was safe and Calleigh was alive; it was a beautiful day.


End file.
